A/N: HAPPY CANADA DAY! SINCE I'M CANADIAN, I THOUGHT I'D WRITE A QUICK HETALIA ONESHOT FOR THIS HONORABLE DAY! ENJOY!
It takes you years to slowly fill that collection bin.
I stare as you slide down the funnel into the metal tin.
Drip...
Drop...
Drip…
Drop...
It seems to take you all eternity to make this simple journey.
I see a man, tall and burly,
He picks you and your friends up, nice and early.
He hauls you into a silver van,
That contains identical silver cans,
You're poured hastily into a metal strainer,
And then into a plastic container,
You quarrel with your siblings for a spot to rest,
'My oh my,' you think, 'what a quest!'
You finally settle down for the journey,
You're all jerked out of your places; the sweet sappy mass beside you mutters, "Why such a hurry?"
Your plastic vessel lands on a shelf at a convenience store;
at six o'clock, they'll open the doors.
The customer's drift by you,
Until one comes looking for sweet and sticky breakfast goo,
A lady pauses over your row,
She picks you up, then decides to go.
Her sons and daughters gather 'round the dining table,
Eager to taste you... then watch some cable,
You're poured out slowly, for all to admire
You're like a glistening amber, with the hue of a copper wire
Not many know the hardships you face, to reach the pancakes' interface,
I can't wait to taste you—Maple the Great,
Until then, my tastebuds await.
Matthew saved the Google document and turned off his laptop and sighed contently
"What were ye writing lad?"
Matthew turned around suddenly, brows raised
"Alistair!" said Matthew, "What brings you here?"
The older nation laughed, "What? 'm not allowed to visit my boyfriend?"
Matthew rolled his eyes
"Of course you're allowed Alistair."
"Good," Alistair replied, pressing a kiss into Matthew's temple
"Ye still haven't told me what ye were writin bout." Alistair said
Matthew laughed, smiling at the Scotsman
"I was writing a poem about Maple Syrup," Matthew replied
Alistair rolled his eyes
"Of course you were you blasted Canadian," said Alistair, laughing a bit
There was a momentary silence (which was quite comfortable and were filled with smiles, mind you)
Alistair played with Matthew's hair for a moment
"So," asked Alistair, smirking a bit, "Where's my poem?"
Matthew slapped him lightly on the shoulder
A/N: … REVIEW?